Help Me
by renegadewriter8
Summary: Prowl was hurt, badly. But he can't remember why or who did it. One moment he was escaping and the next, he was in the hospital. In the following days, a man starts to follow him around. Who is he? And why Prowl feel safe around him? Humanized
1. Chapter 1

AJJJJJJ I hate myself!! Why can't a ever FINISH a story before I star another one??? Oh well.... (bangs head on the desk in frustration)

Whyyyyyyy!! T.T

Okay, anyway.... enjoy XD After reading many fanfics fituring Lockdown/Prowl , even though I still think JazzXProwl rule, I kindda liked this pairing so I'm giving it a shot.... I am an evil person... Why do I make them suffer all the time?? Grrr... I just know this is goin to come back to hunt me....

Sadly I do **NOT**, in any form whatsoever own Transformers! If I did!..... people would be traumatized XD

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**PLEASE!!**

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He was running.

It was dark. The forest was menacing in it's blackness, so dense that no moonlight shone through. The trees looked like enormous brutes that toyed with him and denied any escape from their clutches, confusing him, never knowing if he was coming or going, if he was gaining any distance between him and those that had hurt him and who wished to inflict even more pain.

He ran.

He flinched as he stepped on the dry leafs that made a crunching sound and at every twig that snapped under his bear and bloodied feet, afraid that the small, yet at the same time deafening sound would echo through the immense woods and reach the ears of his fear.

His panicked breaths seemed to feed his despair to the point where tears came to his eyes. His right arm was broken and he couldn't move it without a shock of pain coursing through his entire body. He cradled it's limp form with his other hand trying not to jostle it too much during his desperate run. His black t-shirt was torn everywhere, pieces hanging making his bruised and bloody body visible to any that looked. His pants hung loosely, a little too loosely. They shared the same fate as his t-shirt, torn and cut. More blood trailed down his skinny legs joining his freshly abused feet from all the cuts made to the delicate skin from the rocks, broken twigs and by the hardened armor of tiny insect amongst other things. His face was a mess. There was a large deep gash that started on his right temple and went a little too near his eye, all the way down across his cheek. The blood went into his eye taking away more of the little visibility he had. His jaw ached horribly as did the back of his head.

He kept running.

He limped as he tried to get away from the origin of his pain. He didn't know if his leg was broken as well or not. He couldn't say the adrenaline made him ignorant of his injuries. He hurt all over, every cut, every bruise, he could feel them all. He felt dirty, his skin sticky with sweat, blood and God knew what else. He could smell alcohol on himself as well as the horrible smell of smoke.

He kept running.

The forest at night was as silent as a tomb. There were no owls, no rodents squeaking or running, no crickets or other insects making any kind of noise. Not even the rustle of the leaves on the trees was heard. It was as if there was no life at all, or maybe they could feel his fear and the danger surrounding him and all had quieted to avoid detection. He felt completely alone.

He kept running.

He tried to ignore the excruciating pain from his body. There would be time to fall on the ground and scream in anguish and cry out all his stress and tension from the fear he felt _after_ he was safe. Right now, he needed to get out of the never ending forest.

He kept running.

Or was it that he was going in circles? They had drugged him. He could feel the poison running through his veins. It made him dizzy and dampened his senses. The deadly silence and darkness made it worse. He had no reference as to were he was going. As far as he knew, he was blind and deaf, except for the abnormal pounding of his heart, his gasps for air and the crunching noises at his feet.

The rest was silence. He knew he was awake. The pain was enough evidence. He knew he was running. But he didn't know where he was nor how he had come to be in this situation. He couldn't even remember what had happened to him. The only thing that gave him some peace was that he still had his pants _on_.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he heard multiple crunching noises from behind him. They were gaining on him.

_"No!"_ He thought desperately making a choking sound as he startled forwards once again. He tried to push his body farther even if it screamed at him to stop! He gasped for air feeling as if his lungs had closed from the fear and panic.

He kept running.

He didn't know how near they were but he didn't care. All he could think about was to keep running and running. The tears started falling again mixed with blood. The intense sensation was replaced by extreme relief and hope as he heard a sudden roar of an engine. His captors hadn't chased him with a car, there was no way it could drive through the forest. The noise came from up ahead. The was a road, but to get to it, he had to climb the slope.

"HELP!" He yelled, his voice horse from all the screams that had risen from his very being a few minutes ago. Or was it hours? Days? He couldn't remember at all.

"HELP! PLEASE HELP!" More tears rolled down his cheeks.

There was a shout from behind him. With another desperate cry, he started crawling up the slope. He could see the lights from the car breaching through the thick nature.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he breached through and came to a stop. An large figure stood in front of him. The white lights from the car behind the stranger robbed him of any definite aspects of his face or body in general.

The figure let out a surprised gasp. He took a few steps forward to the mangled boy who in turn took a fearful step back. As the big figure got closer, the young boy could see his face. There were tattoos on it.

Tattoos.

His captors had had tattoos. On their arms, chest, neck. But none of them had had tattoos on their face. This was not one of the men who hurt him.

"Please..." He whimpered weakly, eyes wide and unfocused. With the little force he had left, he threw himself at the stranger. Strong arms grabbed him by pure reflex. Clawing at the man's leather jacket, the boy looked up into the man's face, a new set of tears streaming from his eyes.

"Help... me..." Was all the boy could say, before darkness claimed him.

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So you like??? Please review if you did even if it's to say... yes XD

Me: I'm evil right? (wink)

Autobots: THEN STOP MAKING UP THESE KIND OF STORIES!!


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, a few things first. I went and changed the summary cause honestly... I just had no ideas after the first chapter! Then I thought about it in a different way and yesterday night... right in that small second you're lying on your bed _'this close'_ to falling asleep... it came to me. GREAT TIMING BUNNIES!!!

Grrrr they hate and have a vendetta against me! I just know it! They ALWAYS bite me when I have no power what so ever to deal with them.

So, there I am in my bed _REFUSING_ to get up and telling the bunnies to bite me in the morning when I'm actually on the computer! Fortunately.... they bit my at night so here it is! I found that this way, I have much more material to write with!

I hope you like it!!

**READ AND REVIEW!!**

**PLEASE!!**

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You know that small moment when you're in between consciousness and la la land? It's funny really. There's this small but powerful processes to waking up.

First of all, you realize that something is different from whatever dream it is you're having. Even if it's a dreamless sleep you notice the dramatic change, simply because you _feel_ something is off. Thats the first step towards waking up. Now, during this stage, your senses are none existent. You can't hear, you can't see and you can barely feel. What's beautiful about this, is that the moment you grasp the fact that something just isn't right, is where you start to drift back into the land of living.

That's probably when you can feel yourself lying down, sometimes you start feeling sore or a small pain from where you slept on your arm the whole night. Not a pretty thing to wake up to. Trust me. The moment to realize that you _are,_ in fact, in that small space between waking and sleeping, you probably desperately want to _not_ wake up. Waking up means you have to go to school, or college or work! Or maybe the dream you were having was awesome, full of chocolate and cookies. Who would want to wake up from that?

But, the awful and most annoying thing is, that for you to mentally yell _'NO! I want to keep sleeping! I don't wanna wake up!'_, you have to be closer to the living world to have the capacity to simply think. So from there, your plan to fall asleep and pretend you never were anywhere _near_ waking up, goes down to hell.

After acknowledging your near awakening, your senses start kicking in. First, you're hearing. Depending on where you went to sleep last, depends on the sounds of the outside world. For me personally, I wake at the sound of my mom going to the kitchen and telling my dad to 'be quiet she's still sleeping'. Never works. The thing is, don't you hate it when you _know_ you're hearing something but you don't know what or what it means? Just awful and frustrating. Makes you want to actually wake up to know what that annoying sound is so you can shut it up and go back to sleep. Usually, that sound is your alarm clock.

Naturally, after that comes sight. You slowly and painfully open your eyes, feeling them heavy with sleep and in denial that 'this is actually happening!'. At first everything you _can_ see, is blurry. Sometimes the brain takes it's sweet time to catch up with what you're seeing and most of the time you're probably thinking..._ what the hell _is_ that?_ or, _was that there before?_, and sometimes even, _where the _hell_ am I?_ And _very_ few time, _who or what am I?_

Many times, all this data is followed by a groan and a curse because you realize you _are_ awake and _no, _you are never going to manage to go back to sleep.

This was where Prowl found himself. Everything was dark and silent. That is until he got this nagging feeling that the endless void was coming to a hesitant end. Suddenly, he could feel pain _everywhere_! But, he was somehow comfy and warm. He struggled into awareness. He was moving, but at the same time he was _not_? What? He went another stage up.

Sound.

But it was very distant. Like, as if there was a barrier between him and whatever was on the other side. He could hear... roaring? _Maybe an engine? _His brain supplied.

_'Car.'_

Why would he think a car of all things? There was something trying to make it's self clearer in his mind but failing. Like a memory trying t make it's self present.

Wait, engine and moving but _NOT_ moving.

_'Inside a Car.'_

He squirmed. His body was on fire. With great difficulty, he opened his eyes half way. Everything was blurry. He absently noticed that he was leaning against the door, looking out the window. Dark, tall things of different shapes and sizes were flying by, a light passing by once in a while.

_'Trees.'_

_'Lamp Posts.'_

His brain supplied, though he paid no attention. God, did he feel like someone was trying to rip him apart. He groaned in pain. Though if he was aware of his vocal protests or not was a mystery.

More noises, a little clearer this time but with the same characteristics as before.

"...-id? ....-uo... -right?... -ake.... -p!"

It was still far away and muffled. One couldn't even notice if the voice was masculine, feminine, low, high pitched, nothing.

Sensation.

Touch.

Something or someone was touching him. His left shoulder. Again, he couldn't tell, if the touch was soft, rough, threatening or soothing. He could _feel_ fine enough. But he could only feel his pain. Again, he eyes focused (or tried to) outside the window. The black things (trees), and the passing lights, were now replaced by big cubes and rectangles set upright with small lights here and there. More passing light, and more far away noises. More roaring, honks.. was it? And other incredible loud yet barely recognizable sounds.

"Ki-... almo-... ere! H-ng.... -n!"

More blaring sounds.

Sirens.

He could feel the car picking up speed, his body jerked to the side occasionally jostling his damaged body. He cried out in pain again, oblivious to what was happening.

"Idi-ic.... po-e...-n't... the-...-ee...- 'm...-oing...-o...-he-...hos-al!?"

Yelling.

Curses.

He could identify the sounds and what they were. But at the same time... he couldn't. They didn't make any sense. He was unaware of his own existence. All that he knew, was pain.

With one last tired and pleading whimper, he went back into darkness. The muffled sounds dying, the blurry unrecognizable shapes disappearing. But the best of all, the pain fading.

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You like????

TELL ME!!

I promise cookies!!

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	3. Chapter 3

.... I should be doing homework right now but noooooooooooo, dumb bunnies just **HAD** to bite me..... I've said this once, and I'll say it again... THEY HATE ME!! T.T

(sighs resignedly) whatever... here you go! Hope you like it! I've neglected my duties as a good student for this!!! GRRRRRRRRRRR

**READ AND REVIEW!!!**

**PLEASE!!!**

Oh, and cookies as promised to my reviewers! Here (throws cookies) knock yourselves out.

I'm going to mope in a corner now byebye XD

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Sound.

Touch.

Movement.

Warmth.

Security.

Once again, Prowl found himself in that awful state between reality and darkness. Not able to make sense of any kind of information, he stayed still in the awkward position he found himself in.

He was curled in a tiny ball. There was something holding his legs underneath his knees and another something holding his back going around his shoulders in a tight grip. His head was against something rough, broad and warm. Arms folded on his stomach. Prowl could make out a loud beat right where his ear stuck to... whatever it was his head laid against. The strong and steady murmur of 'it' was soothing and relaxing, prompting him to go back into the darkness.

It was basically the only thing he could make out with accuracy. The rest, were strange noises with no sense and were far away from him. A buzzing sound was also present in his ears, making the little sounds he could make out even more strange.

An abrupt stop.

Yelling.

The grip grew tighter.

He suddenly remembered what pain felt like.

More somethings -hands?- tugging at him. And that which held him fighting against the intruders.

More pain.

"Wh-.... ar-...-uo-...do-ng!?!? H-'s....-urt!!! Get-...-f... me!!"

Muffled, far away noises once again. It was really bothering Prowl a lot. He could feel himself going in and out of consciousness. Though he didn't know why.

Pain.

Ah yes. Pain. The only anchor connecting him to the world. Absently, his mind managed to realize that there were a lot of more 'things' moving all around him. Each 'thing' made a different sound. Some were loud and obnoxious, some were scared, worried, scandalized. Others was calm, understanding, gentle but at the same time concerned.

"Don-...-orry...we-...w-ll...-eep...-im...-afe."

The grip around his shoulders and knees softened. Hesitantly but resignedly. He felt his position shift. He went from his curled up position to a being stretched out, back against something soft.

But it was all wrong!! There was no warmth, only cold. There was no far away voices soothing him. There was no more of 'that' presence. Suddenly, he felt vulnerable, he felt alone, and he felt scared. Images he did not understand but frightened him nonetheless started to present themselves in his mind like flashes.

_A -man?- with a knife coming at him._

Another flash.

_A man with a burning metal bar._

Another flash.

_Him being kicked, punched and thrown into a pool. He could feel his lungs burning before fresh air was suddenly present in them._

Another flash.

_A hand holding a long string...- whip?-_

Another flash .... a whisper... promising pain.

_"We're ain't done yet kid. This was just warm up."_

Accompanied by a face who's features were a mystery to Prowl. Except for that white, curved thing at the bottom, glinting fierce and terrorizing.

_A smile._

_A twisted smile._

Prowl cried out. He did not understand it! But- but he was filled with fear, pain and desperation! And he had to get _away!!_

Where had that safe feeling gone? Where had that protective aura gone to? Where had his warmth disappeared to!?

He screamed.

Hands grabbed him. Unfamiliar hands. Still feeling himself in the middle of the two worlds, where nothing made sense, he thrashed around, trying to get way. From what? He did not know. And not knowing was what scared him the most.

More hands. They restrained him. He felt the material he had barely covering his body being removed not too kindly, and small cold things were attached to him. A sharp, long thing was impaled into his skin. It hurt. He was moving again, more sounds..- no, voices - were yelling at him.

"-old...-im!!"

"Ge-...a.... sed-ive!!"

"V-ry...-eek ...- ulse!"

"-art... ra-e... abn-mal-...-ow!!"

"-osing... -im!!"

Again he cried out. Desperately wishing that presence would come back. He felt lost. He wanted to feel safe again.

Suddenly, something cold ran unto his arm, through his veins. It felt weird and alien.

Somehow, he discovered he could open his eyes. He closed them again immediately. What he saw, he did not understand. These 'things' were leaning over him, prodding, poking, making him feel pain. White lights, too bright for him were passing by above him.

They were taking him away.

He started feeling numb, more powerless. Absently, one last image presented itself in his mind. It was the last thing he had lucidly done before he was thrown into this world were there was no up or down, no sense, no sanity.

He screamed those last words he had uttered before darkness overtook him yet once again.

"HELP ME!"

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O.O

Me: EVIL CLIFFHANGER!! WHAT HAPPENS OMG I WANNA KNOW!! XD

Prowl: Then write it before your readers appear at your house and make you.

Me: You're so mean! let me alone in my world of insanity!

Prowl: (sighs) What ever did I do to get this crazy person to write a fic about me?

Me: You like it and you know it!

Prowl: .... yes I just _love _being tortured and feeling pain.

Me:... You ruin my fantasy!

Prowl: (sighs) Ignore her. Please review. The more reviews she gets, the more she'll write and the sooner I can go in peace.


	4. Chapter 4

Uff, I had planned on getting this published on the weekend but I forgot I had a retreat so I was gone for three days and couldn't work on this at all. Well here you have it! Did I promise cookies last chapt? Oh well, I have some anyway, you can have them casue I'm feeling very generous right now. (hands cookies to reviewers)

And I'm not even going to _TALK_ about the evil bunnies... bothering me when I was supposed to be silent and praying grrrrr.

**READ AND REVIEW!!**

**PLEASE!  
**

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Prowl felt himself floating in a dark void, his senses nonexistent. There was no sound, no smell, no light. His body felt light and numb. There was no cold or warmth. He was just... there.

Yet he felt content. No worries, no sense of time, where up or down were, no pain. Peaceful silence. He decided he liked this pitch black empty space. Where ever it may be. Relaxing, he leaned back in to it. He felt it's embrace, it's fortitude, and it's promise of safety.

Yet all things, even good, shall at one point come to an end.

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

The black veil suddenly lifted. His senses struck him like a truck hitting a car at full speed. At first it was too much to take in. Sounds mashed together, loud and incomprehensible. There was a powerful smell of anesthetics that burned his nose and throat. He was blinded by a powerful light that didn't give him the chance of opening them, leaving him clueless as to where he was. His body was heavy and stiff. Any movement made him uncomfortable, even if he tried to move only one finger.

"....-owl..."

He struggled through the blurry and echoing world. His senses were already stabilizing, but it was still not enough to grasp reality. He could clearly hear a voice next to him, though he wasn't sure what was being said or who it was by. A beeping echoing sound was somewhere to his left. After moments, or mere seconds (he couldn't really tell time yet), he decided that that sound was rather annoying and started to get frustrated.

He shook his head to stop the echoing ringing in his ears that were acting like an intervention between him and the real world.

"Prow...."

Finally, after one last struggle to 'awake', every thing fit into place. There were no more echoes, no more ringing, no more muffled sounds. Every noise just _adjusted _and he could hear the traffic on the streets far away, the rustling of the trees outside, the birds chirping, and voices coming from beyond his room and some coming from a speaker in a monotone way. His eyes were still closed as they tried to adjust to that bright light that came from his left. Whether it was artificial or natural he did not know yet.

He was confused by all the information he gained. The first detail that caught Prowl's attention was the clear knowledge that something wasn't right. First of all, even if it was very faint, he could feel a small annoyance throughout his body and he felt exhausted and with no desire whatsoever to move. The second thing, was that he just knew he wasn't in his bed, it being too big and the mattress a little too hard. That annoying beeping sound came back to him and he knew it wasn't his alarm clock. Two things clicked in that moment. One, that the room _smelt like anesthetics_, when it usually smelt like incense and the second thing, was that there was _light pouring into _his_ room,_ when it was usually so dark, even a cat would have trouble maneuvering in it. If that wasn't bad enough, the light shone right into his face. He realized that it was because of that that he felt blind. He squinted and by reflex tried to move his hand to cover his eyes only to feel it restrained and dead.

Immediately, his eyes shot open ignoring the light. He laid there for a few second trying to figure out where he was. The ceiling was white, too white for his taste. There was a large window to his right with no curtains, which explained the sudden abusive light. He could make out the outline of what he guessed were monitors. That's when he noticed his arm. It was being held by a blue band, that came down from one of the poles on the ceiling.

Blinking, he tried to sit up only to slump back down as realizing that apart from not wanting to move, and feeling exhausted, that even if he wanted to he had no strength whatsoever to do it and that any movement sent a small jolt of pain everywhere. He couldn't understand why his arm wasn't moving!

"Prowl!"

Surprised he turned his head slowly to the side and up to meet the worried gaze of a very familiar face.

"Ra- Ratchet?" He coughed various times and again was left perplexed as he heard his voice. Why was it hoarse? His throat felt as if it were on fire and it was dry. He could feel every movement the muscles there made. It wasn't a pleasant sensation. What the hell was going on?

Ratchet was standing over him with his usually brown pants, white shirt and medical coat on, a pen and a small flash light on his left pocket.

The medic let out a long, audible, tired sigh and ran one hand over his face, eyes closed. After a second, he let the hand drop to his side and leaned a little over the man on the bed. Prowl noticed the dark rings under his eyes. It was not like the medic never had them. But there was this thing with eye rings, the easy way of knowing what they signified at different times. You could always tell when the rings were there by working late, or when someone was drunk and hadn't slept thanks to the hangover that usually accompanied such state. And then there were the dark, _dark_ rings that just let you know the person who had them had just gone through a very difficult ordeal and was emotionally tired.

Prowl frowned. The medic usually had that look when one of his patients died or when there was a disease to which he did not know the cure to. To have that look directed at him was a warning that he was not going to like at all the reason as to _why_ it was there. And another thing that bothered him. Ratchet, was not yelling at him. Quite the contrary, he was being sensible, gentle and supportive... characteristics Prowl never imagined on the medic who usually yelled at you for being an idiot and getting yourself hurt and all that.

"Do you have any idea..." The medics soft words trailed off as his head dropped, eye contact lost. Drawing a long, deep breath that wavered at the end, Ratchet tried very hard to keep his emotions in check. He was close to a breakdown and suddenly, Prowl was scared. For Ratchet or himself was unclear.

"Ratch?" He inquired just as softly, his voice scratchy. It might not have been the best thing to do, as the condition his voice was in seemed to remind the medic of whatever it was that was troubling him.

"God, Prowl... " The medic started, voice firmer and louder, shaking his head and looking everywhere except him, as if searching for the right words.. "What the hell happened!" Anger. Pure anger and worry were hidden in his gruff and loud voice.

Prowl didn't know what to think anymore. He had no idea what was going on. He already knew he was in the hospital. Putting every piece together, the smell, the clearly hospital room, his right arm that was in a cast, he could feel the needle in his left hand feeding him with what he had no doubt had to be morphine or antibiotics or something like that, and the unusual behavior of the usual energetic and loud medic made him know, that he had been in a kind of accident and that he was probably in a very, _very_ bad shape.

He knew it should have shocked him a bit more, but what was really bothering him is that he just could _not_ remember what had happened! Coming to the obvious and logical conclusion that the best way to know was by asking, he cleared his throat.

"Wha- what happened?" He had to swallow many times after that simple sentence. He wanted water and he wanted it _now!_ Too lost in his small desire, he missed the look of horror and dread cross the older medic's face.

"Prowl." He said desperately, touching the younger man's shoulder so the other would look at him. "You don't- wha- what's the last thing you remember?" Eyes wide, voice shaky, the younger man didn't know how to take it.

"I- I rememb- er that *cough**cough* I remember Jazz. And the part-*cough**cough* party. He had just been promoted. "

Ratchet took his hand off Prowl's shoulder and ran it over his face again, stopping at his mouth covering it, while his other turned into a fist. He shut his eyes tight and dragged in a sharp breath. It suddenly occurred to Prowl, that whatever accident he may have been in, there was always the possibility of him having short term memory. It was fairly common and usually presented itself in cases where the victim would hit his head. Judging by the his own appearance and the medics antics, his had been bad. He started to feel panic as he realized what this meant. One usually forgot hours, traumatized by the impact. Others could forget days... while others could forget months or even years.

"What- what happened? Wh- *cough**cough* how long have I...?"

Ratchet sighed again. Both arms falling limply to his side, setting himself straight he looked at Prowl dead in the eyes as serious as the young man had ever seen him.

He felt his blood freeze and muscles tense at the medics words. His eyes widened and suddenly, he didn't know what to do or say. He felt completely lost. "Prowl... the last thing you remember, is two months old."

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O.O (ducks the bricks thrown at her) I'M SORRY!! I'LL POST ANOTHER CHAPTER SOON!! I PROMISE!! (runs away)

**REVIEW PLEASE!!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, here is the next chapter! I'm sorry it's taking me so long but my classes don't let me even breath! Next month I'll have total liberty to work and all the fics! But I don't want to rush them or I'm sure I'll screw something up! And I'm sure you guys don't want that... RIGHT!?!?! XD

I was gonna put two chapters in one but I didn't like how it looked so I just cut it and the next will be posted... later... next month XD

**DON'T GIVE UP ON MEH!!!**

**READ AND REVIEW!!**

**AND ENJOY!! XD**

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"What do you mean he doesn't remember!?"

"Would you calm down! What other meaning could there be!?"

Ratchet yelled back at Jazz. The medic was tired. Tired, angry and worried. Apart from Prowl having a concussion, and after having done at least twenty blood tests for Prowl, he had known that the barbaric levels of drugs that for some sick and unknown reason were in his systems could, if not _would_, cause memory loss. But he had tried to convince himself it wouldn't happen, not to Prowl, and the shock of being proven wrong had been too much.

The medic ran a hand through his dark brown hair and left it at his neck feeling all the muscles there ache. He needed sleep. He needed it bad and he needed it _now_. But no patient of his had shook him as bad as the kid had. He had barely known the others or their injuries had been from a real accident. What had been done to Prowl... it was inhumane.

He would still see the boy's battered and broken body when he closed his eyes. He had washed his hands over and over again but he could still feel his warm blood running through them when he had been brought in.

An hour had passed from when he had spoken with the younger man. After silently applying a small sedative, the boy had immediately fallen asleep once more. His body was still not fully healed. And any rest he could get (even if it was forced), would do him much good.

In all honestly, Ratchet hadn't wanted to touch the subject of 'What happened'. He didn't even know where to start or how to tell him what. He knew he wasn't exactly the type of person one would want to receive these kind of news from. He knew he had no tact and he didn't want to upset the boy any farther.

He had then proceeded to call Optimus, who was with Bluestreak , and Jazz who he was sure had broken many speed limits to get there. They had all wanted to burst into the room and see Prowl for themselves, but Ratchet had literally dragged each of them into his office to talk.

To say that they were shocked by the clear fact that Prowl had absolutely no memory of what had happened to him was the statement of the year. It hadn't occuerd to them and Ratchet had never told them, in case it was a false alarm. He hadn't wanted to give them one more thing to worry about.

Jazz was the one taking it the hardest.

He and Prowl had been best friends since they had memory. Jazz had always been the trouble maker of the two and was very over protective of his friend. His protective nature had led him to become an enforcer while Prowl, the most tranquil and reserved of the two, was studying literature.

They were opposites in every way. Where one was outgoing the other preferred to avoid any and all social events. Jazz was cheerful and easygoing while Prowl was quiet and logical. During their growing up, Jazz had constantly worried over his friend, seeing as he had no interest in mixing with the outside world, always preferring on staying locked in his apartment. It had gotten the younger man into many troubles as he was completely oblivious to certain things. Some thought his innocence and naivety was cute. Jazz did not. Specially when something like this happened to him.

To have some piece of mind, Jazz had convinced Prowl to join the dojo he went too when they were kids. That way he knew his friend would be able to protect himself. It hurt that he had been proven wrong in such a way.

Jazz sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. The night Prowl had disappeared had been his promotion party. Guilt filled him as he remembered the party. His friend had told him he was leaving but Jazz had been having to much fun to do anything but pout and wave a good bye before jumping back on stage with Blaster and starting to sing karaoke at the top of their lungs. _"If Ah'd payed more attention... dis wouldn't 'ave happened."_

Trying to make up for his mistake, Jazz had taken the case and combed the whole city for his friend with the help of his team and lover who was head of the Missing Person division. He hadn't slept, had stopped eaten to the point where his friends would trap him in a closet and threaten to force feed him if he didn't do it himself. When he received the frantic call from Ratchet saying that someone had brought Prowl in, he froze. He hadn't known whether to cry, scream or laugh. Prowl was finally home. And most importantly, he was safe.

"What do we do now?" He asked in a solemn voice. He had hoped Prowl could give him some insight into who the bastards were so Jazz could personally go and arrest them. After beating the shit out of them that is.

"One of you should tell him what happened, cause I'm not sure I'd be able to stay calm if I tried." Replied the medic.

"What difference would it make!?" Burst out suddenly a tearful Bluestreak who had been unusually quiet since they had gotten in Ratchet's office. "Isn't it better that he doesn't remember?! This way, he's being spared the awful memories of what they did to him, I- I'm glad he doesn't remember... "

The three adults looked at the teenager with saddened eyes as he became quiet and started to shake, quiet sniffs and hiccups coming from his clenched mouth.

Optimus silently came up to the teen and hugged him tightly, trying to offer as much support and comfort as he could. Bluestreak, quickly grabbing onto his t-shirt and burying his face in it, let out all the frustration and concern he had held in for the last two months.

Bluestreak was Prowl's adoptive baby brother. His parents had abandoned him right after he was born outside an orphanage and had been adopted when Prowl was four years old. After their parents died six years later, they had been taken in by Optimus who had been twenty at the time and a close friend to their family.

Bluestreak loved his brother and always followed his advices and warnings. It had saddened him when Prowl had decided to live by his own when he reached eighteen and moved out. But he would always visit and Prowl never complained or kicked him out. To the teenager, Prowl was one of the few who understood him. He was very talkative and while many rudely shut him up or told him to talk less, Prowl was always willing to listen to anything he said.

Two months ago, when he had been called by Jazz to ask him if he knew where his brother was, Bluestreak had known right away that something was wrong. Two weeks later when it was obvious his brother had disappeared had left the poor boy shattered. He hadn't know what to do. He didn't go to school and stayed home trying to help in any way even if Optimus told him there was nothing he could do.

Jazz's hands clenched into fists at the sight of the younger boy breaking up in Optimus's arms. Bluestreak and Prowl were to Jazz like his little brothers. And _no one_, made his little brothers suffer, unless they were suicidal. He would catch these bastards and make them suffer ten - no - a hundred times more!

"It's okay Blue, everything is over now. Prowl is safe. But we have to tell him." Optimus said in his always kind and gentle voice.

Optimus had taken care of both the brothers when their parents had died. He loved them both. Many people had said it was wrong for someone so young as him to take in the two siblings. But there just hadn't been anyone else, and Optimus was not about to let them get dragged into an orphanage where they would probably be separated.

"W- why?" Came the muffled inquiry.

"'Cause if we don't, he'll just bug us till we tell 'im and Ah'd rather he know so he can keep an eye out fer trouble."

"But -"

"No Bluestreak. Jazz is right." Ratchet intervened. "This is something Prowl has the right to know. And we can't just deny giving him the knowledge of what happened to him." He let out a heavy sigh. "But I can't say I'm not glad he doesn't remember. As Bluestreak said, he won't have to to go through the process of healing his mind. These kind of things... I've had cases like this... what's left of the person..." He trailed off, looking past the three men, expression grim as he remembered the lost look in his patients eyes and the screams when they'd have nightmares. Family and friends were the ones that would take care of the person, so Ratchet had never had to personally interact with one of them. But Prowl _was_ part of his family, and now he knew the pain his patient's family had gone threw. "I wouldn't know where to start helping him. No, Bluestreak is right, it's actually a blessing that we doesn't have a single memory of it."

Optimus and Jazz shared a worried and helpless look. Putting it that way, they hoped Prowl never had to face his memories. But now they were back to nothing. Since the start of the investigation, they hadn't had a clue. There was nothing, no location, no prints, no security footage, no witnesses! It was like whoever had taken Prowl had appeared and vanished into thin air.

"So we tell him what we know." Optimus concluded. "What then?"

"For starters, he has to be discharged, I wish I could keep him here for ever. I don't feel like letting him out there again after this."

Jazz nodded, understanding where the medic was coming from. In all honestly, Jazz's first thoughts had been to lock the younger boy someplace safe and keep him there. If Prowl hated him for that then so be it. If they had had theculprit under lock and key, he might let him out. But they knew nothing. Prowl's kidnapper hadn't contacted them, hadn't even let anyone know they had him. Worst of all, it killed Jazz not knowing the **WHY!**

Letting out a frustrated sigh he asked; "When can we see 'im?"

* * *

Did you guys like it?? huh? huh? HUH?!?!? XD Okay, I'm hyper ignore me.

**IMPORTANT!!**

One more thing! I don't know what job to give Optimus!! I was thinking on a police officer like Jazz but I didn't like the idea so much, then came principal at Blue's school but that sounds dumb... it has to be something cool and Optimus like but I can't think of anything!!! HELP MEH!!!! X3

Anyway... We get to see a bot of history from each person. Age will be posted in the next chapter.

**REVIEW**!! (And I might post sooner XD)


	6. Chapter 6

Wow sorry for the wait! I'm trying to update all my stories in an acceptable time date. Hopefully, I won't take to long to update. At least not during the next three months.

Oh and to the 'what profession should Optimus have' question.. LOL _EVERYBODY_ said firefighter.... How the hell did I not think of that!?!?!? any way, you all now know what he'll be XD THANKS FOR THE HELP!!! *throws cookies*

Well, here it is!

Oh and as promised..

**AGE OF MENTIONED CHARACTERS:  
**

Prowl: 19

Jazz: 25

Ratchet: 46

Optimus: 29

Bluestreak: 16

**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!**

**IT MAKES ME HAPPY!!**

**AND I NEED THE HAPPINESS!!!  
**

* * *

Prowl woke slowly. For a second he was disoriented and couldn't remember where he was. Which made him panic when he felt his right arm restrained. Quickly looking at it, he saw it in a cast and sling. He sat up watching it confused.

It all came back to him then. He remembered that he was in the hospital. He had woken before to Ratchet's tired and worried face.

And he remembered Ratchet's words. "Prowl... the last thing you remember, is two months old."

Two months. He had lost two months of his life. For a moment, he despaired. For one moment he was afraid and inconsolable. Then, he took deep breaths to calm his shivering and swallowed, remembering the calming techniques his Master had taught him. He cleared his mind of any fear, and let himself think clearly.

Two months. It wasn't much. What could happen in two months? _"A lot."_ He thought grimly. _"Yes."_ Said a tiny voice in his head. _"But it could have been so much longer."_

Prowl pondered that. He had lost two months. He should be thankful. He should be relieved. He knew cases where people had lost years of their lives. Compared to his mere two months. It was nothing.

Exhaling, he finally got control over himself and calmed down. Okay, so he had accepted that he had lost two months of his life. Fine. But, what had happened?

Suddenly, a realization came to him. He had been speaking to Ratchet. He had asked the medic what had happened. He _saw_ the medic shift closer to him. And suddenly, he was asleep.

_"That bastard!"_ He thought. _"He sedated me!"_ He was shocked. He knew Ratchet had done many things like that in the past with his patients, some things were even legally questionable. But to do that to him?! Oh, Prowl was going to kill him!

Too lost in his fantasies of killing his so called 'friend' he jumped when there was a sudden yelp coming from his left and turned just in time to see a blur toss it's self at him.

"Prowl!!"

A sixteen year old boy with short dark blue hair, light blue big eyes, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, some how managed to tackle him and hugged him tightly around the waist burying his face in his stomach.

"Bluestreak!?" Gasped Prowl followed by a groan of pain. His whole body ached. He could feel scabs breaking on several parts of his stomach and he could swear his whole back was one enormous scab. His left leg was numb and bandaged but there wasn't a cast around it so Prowl guess it wasn't broken. His ribs also hurt but thankfully seemed to be intact. As he instinctively pushed Bluestreak away from him, he saw that his arm was full of very nasty cuts and burns, some had had to be stitched. He shivered.

"Oh my God Prowl I'm so sorry!" Cried the younger teen. "Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Are you dizzy? Do you wanna throw up? Ratchet!"

"Would you calm down and shut up!" Snapped the medic, coming into view as he walked around the bed to the other side to check the monitors.

"I'm *cough* okay Blue'." Prowl said, his voice still uncomfortably horse.

Prowl started at his younger brother, watching as his eyes locked with his and his worried expression turned to a more deeper concern and sadness, he saw as his face contort until he started to cry, lowering his head and just holding onto his arm, not wanting to hurt him even though it was obvious he just wanted to bury himself in his brothers comforting arms.

"Blue? Blue! What's wrong? Are you okay?" He tried to reach him with both his arms, forgetting one was broken and hissed silently.

"Easy Blue'." Prowl watched Optimus appear and hold Bluestreak who clung to him and kept crying. The nineteen year old watched in anguish the display. He didn't know what was going on. Surely he had not caused _this_. He looked at Optimus searching some kind of answer.

"I'm so glad to see you awake Prowl." He said softly, hand reaching to pat him in the head, a gesture that always annoyed him to no end, but strangely, he deeply welcomed it now.

"What's going on?" He asked confused and worried. "Blue'? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, don't cry okay?" He started coughing again, but stopped after a few seconds. Would it kill anyone to give him some water?!

As if reading his mind, Optimus handed him a small glass that had been sitting on the nightstand with a jar of water and put his free hand on his shoulder again, desperate for some kind of contact with his charge after so long, if only to make sure that he was truly there. Prowl gulped it down greedily thought he still watched Bluestreak for any sign of distress.

Ratchet watched from the other side, anger and sadness building inside of him. Of course Bluestreak would breakdown. He was so innocent and fragile. The medic's heart had stopped when, while in surgery with Prowl, hands deep inside his body, blood _everywhere_, he had looked up to see Optimus, Jazz and Bluestreak, pale, looking with expressions of horror from the observation deck. They shouldn't have even been there! No doubt Jazz had had something to do with that. But Optimus and Jazz didn't matter. They could handle it. But why the hell had they let Bluestreak in there dammit! He had yelled and hit Jazz over the head a thousand times sparing Optimus who had his arms full of a very distressed and traumatized Blue'.

What angered him the most was Prowl's reaction. Like hell was it his fault. He had nothing to be sorry for! Who ever did this to Prowl should be the ones to be sorry! And if Ratchet ever got a hand on whoever was responsible, ohhhh he'd make them sorry alright.

"Easy there Prowler." Come a voice from behind Bluestreak, before the medic could speak.

Looking up from his younger brother, the nineteen year old met his best friends eyes. They were full of concern, relief (no doubt at the fact the Prowl was really, finally awake), and was that anger and guilt?

"Jazz." He said smiling, followed by a cough.

"Primus Prowl, ya scared us." He whispered, before coming forward and minding his injuries he hugged Prowl, leaving the mentioned rigid and tense. For some reason, the sudden contact made him afraid. He was puzzled immensely by this. He was going to push away, but the emotion behind the hug, an almost unnoticeable tremble running through his body and the soft, apologizing words the enforcer whispered mid sob made Prowl want to cry with him. Even if he still had no idea what was the big deal.

"I'm so glad yer okay Prowl. I thought we had lost ya. I wouldn't 'ave been able ta forgive myself if ya had -" He choked on the last word and hugged him tighter.

Prowl tentatively hugged him back with his free arm. "Jazz? I'm sorry for making you worry." He said just as softly.

He wasn't prepared for Jazz shooting up and glaring at him. "Ya have nothing ta be sorry for! This ain't yer fault!"

Taken aback by his outburst, he shrank in himself and muttered another 'I'm sorry'. Something about being yelled at made him flinch and feel scared, though he would have _never_ felt like that. He felt strange all of a sudden. He felt trapped.

"Jazz!" Optimus chastised.

"And here you were telling us to act cool so as to not scare him. Great job Mr. Smooth." Ratchet said glaring at the young man.

Bluestreak left Optimus arms and following Jazz's example hugged his brother avoiding the places he knew where full with bandages. He sat on the bed laying half on Prowl's lap and hugging his middle. His cries had reduced to quiet whimpers.

Jazz looked at Optimus's and Ratchet's angry glares and then at Prowl's slumped form and wished he could kick himself. "Shit Prowl. I- I'm sorry. I just. I'm so glad you're safe."

"Safe?"

The occupants in the room shifted uneasily. All of them avoiding eye-contact. Even Bluestreak had gone quiet and still.

Looking at all of them one at a time, he gathered his thoughts and asked with a commanding voice. "What happened?" When the other's refused to look at him, he continued. "This obviously wasn't an accident as I first thought it'd be. You wouldn't be _this_ upset if it were." And then, more pressing, anger behind his words, he asked again. "What. Happened."

Jazz sighed, deep and long. Swallowing, he started pacing around the room, hand running over his face, rubing at his eyes before he stopped in the middle of the room, back to Prowl.

"Yer're right Prowl. It was no accident." Prowl got curious and a little scared despite himself at the anger that tinted his voice.

Turning, he looked straight into his friends eyes before continuing, voice deadly calm. "Prowl, two months ago, ya were kidnapped."

----

It took Prowl a few moments before the meaning of his friends words made sense to him. As realization came to him, his eyes widened. His hold on his younger brother tightening to the point where Bluestreak looked up. Tears still falling down his cheeks.

"You- you mean that I've been in captivity for two months?!" He asked disbelievingly.

"Not exactly." Ratchet spoke form his left. Prowl turned to look at him, eyes demanding an explanations which Ratchet reluctantly gave.

"Your were gone a month. Jazz and his team along with Barricade searched day and night for you. The idiot even forgetting on eating and dare I say taking a bath."

As he paused, Prowl looked at his friend and realized that he was skinnier and paler, black rings under his eyes, which lacked their normal cheerfulness. He frowned at that. Jazz had always been angry at him for working late and forgetting to eat or sleep.

"Hell, even Optimus joined in the search when he had the time."

"So, then you found me?"

Sighing and running a hand over his face Ratchet continued. "No. _we_ didn't find you."

"But then-"

"We don't know who did." Jazz said before Prowl could speak. "Da staff said dat sometime at three in da morning a month ago, a, and I quote 'a very big, muscular and scary looking guy' came in yelling for assistance. Ya were in his arms, bleeding ta death."

After a long moment spent digesting the new information, Prowl looked at Jazz. "Who was it?" He asked. If some stranger had saved him from the hands of people who, Prowl realized were probably the cause for all his injuries, then he wanted to thank him personally.

"We don't know. They said 'e seemed reluctant ta let ya go but when they promised ya were gonna be save he placed you on the stretcher waiting and suddenly vanished before da cops got der ta question 'im."

"I for one would like to know who he was and thank him. "Optimus said.

"But then, I've been unconscious for a month!?" Prowl asked.

The medic sighed. "I wish it were just that. " He said in a very emotionally tired voice. "Prowl, you've been in a coma for a month."

Prowl stared a the medic with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open.

"We were so glad to hear that you woke up. " Optimus said putting both his hand on his shoulder and smiling that tender and gentle smile he always did when worried about someone he loved.

"We, weren't sure _when_ you'd wake up." Could have been months." Ratchet said before turning and walking to the window looking out. His next sentence was but a whisper, though everyone heard it. "It could have been years."

Prowl thought back to the memory loss issue. He had been upset with it. Now, knowing he had been in a coma for a month, he was eternally grateful that it had only bee two months!

"Most of your injuries have healed, but you'll still be in pain for a while. Then you have rehabilitation for your arm, but nothing serious and a for that leg of yours. It's not broken, but it was one big bruise." The medic continued. Everyone knew he rambled when stressed so they didn't say anything, even if they didn't like hearing about how injured he had been.

Prowl thought his next question carefully. He knew he was hurt. But to what extent? He turned to Ratchet.

"Ratch'?"

"Hm?"

"What are my injuries? Why can't I remember anything?" He noticed how every person tensed and looked ready to punch something. "What did- what did they do to me?"

"Prowl, don't." Jazz said steeping closer.

"I want to know!"

"Why?!" This came from Bluestreak, who had sat up suddenly and was looking pleadingly at his big brother. "Why does it matter?! You're safe, that's all that matters!" He yelled, tears falling once again.

Optimus took his hands from Prowl's shoulder and started rubbing them against the young boy's back in an attempt to calm him down.

Looking down at his little brother he gently pushed him off the bed and turned to Jazz, expression serious and determined.

"I want to know."

Bluestreak let out a long, pained whine, tears streaming like rivers, turned and fled the room.

"Bluestreak!" Optimus yelled and ran after him.

Alone with just Jazz and Ratchet he repeated his question more determined.

"Are you sure?" The medic asked.

"Yes. No doubt the wounds of whatever has been done to me are still there. It is best I know exactly what happened. Not knowing and trying to figure out what some of the injuries are can be a very dangerous thing."

Ratchet sighed. He was right of course. Leaving Prowl to try and figure out could make him paranoid, or he could damage himself psychologically coming up with different ideas of what might have happened.

"Alright." He said much to Jazz displeasure. "When you came in, you were a mess. Your body was covered from head to toe in blood. The night shift called me the second they saw your state. Before we could stabilize you though... you flat lined." He finished coldly.

"What!?" Prowl looked shocked at the news. He had been _dead_!? Literally dead?! Jazz came closer and laid a calming and supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Sacred the hell out of me too. It took five tries to get you back." Ratchet said in a shaky voice haunted by the horrible memory. He had truly thought they wouldn't get him back. He started pacing, right hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Wha- what happened? I mean, I was _that_ bad?" He couldn't hide the small shiver in his voice.

"Yes and no. Prowl, your body was up to your head in drugs. From Rohypnol to at least five different types of sedatives. You also had traces of some hypnotic and hallucination drugs. You were a mess. All those drugs together and the probably violent drive from your mystery savior was what made your heart stop that first time."

Prowl looked sick. He had those kind of drugs in his system? And, wait-

"First time?" He asked voice filled with dread.

"After we cleaned your systems, we started working on you immediately. Your stomach, legs and arms have several burn marks. From cigarettes to to hot iron and chain burns. Your back..." Ratchet stopped trying to regain his focus. Prowl noticed Jazz's hand had tightened on his shoulder and he could feel a tremor every now and then. Glancing at him for a second, he noticed he was seething! "Your back was raw with whip marks."

Prowl suddenly felt lightheaded. He hadn't _just_ been kidnapped. He had been tortured! He bowed his head but didn't say anything, he knew worse was to come.

"As you noticed, your arm was broken in two places. It'll probably take at least five more months to heal. Some of your ribs were bruised. There was some... internal damage. We had to do an emergency operation. There was far to much water in your lungs and one of them collapsed. It wouldn't have been that bad if the lack of proper oxygen in your body and the recent trauma of the drugs in your systems gone had made your heart stop again. Fortunately we brought you back at the first try. But there was still some- Hey Prowl!"

Prowl had doubled over and was breathing hard. He couldn't believe it. Why had this happened to him? Flashes of scenes he did not remember crossed his mind.

Fire. Endless burning pain in his stomach and legs.

Water. The feeling of drowning. It was to much.

He felt his stomach turn. Trying to get of the bed, he ripped the I.V on his hand along with some other things attached to his head and body.

"Woah Prowl stop! You can't get up, you're not stable enough!" Ratchet yelled trying to restrain him with Jazz's help.

"Prowl calm down!" The enforcer yelled.

Sitting on the edge he managed to somehow lose himself from both of them and stand up, but the vertigo made it worse and true to Ratchet's words, his legs didn't have enough strength to support him. He crashed to the ground, thankfully on his good arm, but it made the rest of his body scream in pain.

He could hear Ratchet yelling for the nurse to bring some kind of sedative ad he felt Jazz's hands holding him, as he heaved and vomited all over the pristine floor.

As he finished, he could feel soothing hands rubbing his back and a sudden sting in his neck before all went black yet once more.

---

When Optimus came back to the room with a sigh, having lost track of his youngest charge, he was surprised to find a group of nurses coming and going from Prowl's room.

Worried, he rushed in, only to be stopped by a seething Jazz who grabbed his arm holding him from going any further.

"Wha-"

"I don't think ya would 'ave liked stepping on that." He simply said, pointing at the ground.

Optimus looked down at a puddle of vomit and looked around for Prowl. He was laying in bed unconscious, two nurses were re-attaching the I.V.

"What happened?!" He demanded running around the vomit to Prowl and grabbing his hand, brushing a hand through his hair.

"Ratchet's been keeping stuff from us. Dat's what 'appened!" Jazz yelled.

The medic that was checking Prowl's temperature, blood pressure among other things, looked up and glared.

"And _what_, exactly, would you have done with this information. It only concerns Prowl. Not you. Specially when you were drowning yourself with work, not eating and barely getting any sleep. I would expect that from Prowl. Not you!" He yelled back. He hadn't told any of them for a reason. They didn't need the information.

"What are you talking about?" Optimus asked, ignoring Ratchet.

"Apparently, Prowl somehow almost drowned in something. Can't imagine what 'appened! Oh and dey appeared ta whip in ta his bones!"

"What!? You only said that his back was raw, I, I thought maybe he had scraped it or he'd been beaten! Not whipped!" Optimus cried at Ratchet.

"Again, _what_ would you have done!? And-" He froze.

"Wait, Jazz, what did you say?" He asked walking around the bed to grab the enforcer's arms.

"What?"

"You said 'they'." Ratchet whispered darkly.

"I- I did.." Realization came to him. "I said dey cause Prowl said it. We had always thought it was one kidnapper." He looked at Ratchet and Optimus with shocked eyes.

"He remembers." Breathed Optimus.

"No. Not consciously. It's in his sub-conscious."

"What does that mean?"

"It means,"The medics started letting go of Jazz, putting his hands in his doctor's coat pockets and looking at Optimus. "-that he's going to remember sooner or later." He finished grimly.

"No." The older man breathed.

"Shit!" They turned to look at Jazz. His head was lowered, hands clenched into fists and shaking. "He won't evan be allowed a rest, will 'e."

"Jazz-" Started Ratchet.

"No! Ah _will_ find the ones responsible! At least ta give da kid some damn closure! So 'e won't be afraid ta leave home once he remembers everything!" That being said, he fled the room.

"Jazz!"

"Let him go." Ratchet told Optimus who was half way to the door.

The older man sighed and went back to Prowl's side. "What do we do now?" He asked tonelessly.

"First, we let his recover. Once I discharge him, I want him to go live with Jazz. I know he was a spare bedroom."

"With Jazz?" Optimus asked puzzled.

Ratchet sighed. "I know you want to take him back home, but-" He raise a hand to stop the other from talking. " Think about it. Bluestreak is in no mental state to be near his brother. He will only hurt himself and Prowl and you know it. Second, Jazz is worrying me. If he knows he's with you being taken care of, he'll go out there and get himself into trouble, probably killed by looking for the people that did this to him. But if he has Prowl to watch over, he'll start taking care of himself and being home more often."

Optimus nodded. It made perfect sense. Jazz didn't live too far away, so he could always go visit when ever he wanted. And he was sure Barricade wouldn't mind. After he stopped thinking of Prowl as a threat to getting close to Jazz, he had actually started to care for him much like Jazz did.

He sighed. Resigned. "Aright. I'll go talk to him."

"That won't be necessary." They both jumped at the deep voice coming from behind them. Turning, they came face to face with none other then Barricade. It always surprised Ratchet how big he was compared to Jazz who appeared to be somewhat scrawny (even if he actually had an athlete body), and average height. He only reached Barricade's neck. The older enforcer was bulky, muscular arms and legs and... well his whole body was muscular thought it didn't show so much unless he took of his shirt. Even Optimus had gawked when they had visited the apartment and Barricade had answered the door in boxers. Poor Optimus had been traumatized.

He had short black hair, green eyes and his skin was tanned like Jazz. He was wearing jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt and a leather jacket, his badge hanging form the chest pocket.

"Barricade." Greeted Optimus while Ratchet only nodded in his direction.

"I got here as soon as I could." He said looking at Prowl. "He okay?" They both noticed the concern in his voice, even if the tall, muscular man had meant it to come out casual.

"As good as can be after learning all of his injuries and possible causes to them."

Barricade sighed. "I'll go talk to Jazz."

With that he left, the room.

---

Jazz ran, dodging doctors and nurses along the way. He had to get away. A month of worry and near heart attack for the safety of his childhood friend. Then, having him back had been a relief to him, until he saw his state. When Ratchet had told them he had flat lines two times and then gone into a coma, it was all he could do to not breakdown.

All in all, Jazz felt useless. Even with Barricade's help, he hadn't been able to find a single trace. Nothing. They were chasing a ghost. Many in his department had just given up on finding him. In a week, the news reports stopped showing Prowl's picture and offering a reward to any that could give any kind of information. His superiors had almost demanded him to call it a cold case and leave it to rot in a basement. Only Barricade and his personal squad had kept going. Optimus had helped, volunteering for night shifts when he wasn't on duty at the firehouse.

He hadn't even been the one to find him. No, it had been some lucky stranger that had found the broken body of his friend. It wasn't like he wasn't grateful, quite the contrary. If he ever found the guy who managed to bring back his friend he'd probably kiss him and take him out for dinner.

But he hadn't even been allowed to thank the man.

Turning a dark corner that led to the morgue, he stopped running, panting heavily. No one came through here unless there was a dead body to be examined or identified. Jazz shivered at the thought that they could have been visiting the morgue to identify Prowl.

As the bloody images of Prowl on the surgery bed hit him he wailed and turned to punch the wall, tears streaming down his cheeks. It wasn't fair! Prowl didn't deserve this! And now, when they had thought that his memory loss was a blessing, they discovered that he would probably start to remember all the horrible tortures he had gone through.

With one last punch he fell to his knees facing the wall with a pained sob, holding his bleeding knuckles. He didn't move. He just stared at the floor. He didn't move when a shadow covered him. He didn't move when the person above him didn't say anything, only keeping watching him.

"What should ah do 'Cade?" He asked in a defeated whisper.

Barricade sat, back to the wall next to Jazz looking out to the distance.

"If 'ah had paid more attention to him at the party..." He started. That night had always replayed in his mind since Prowl's disappearance.

"Don't Jazz. We've been over this. It. Was. _Not. _Your. Fault."

Jazz said nothing, tired of this argument. They both went silent again, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Ratchet said that when the kid's discharged, he'll come live with us." he said after a moment.

Jazz lifted his head a little but otherwise didn't move.

"I spoke with Magnus. He said you had the next month off."

That made the enforcer react. "What!? He's suspending me!?" He yelled in a mix of outrage and shock.

Barricade sighed. "No Jazz. He's not suspending you."

"Then what!?"

"First of all, he wants you to get some sleep, second, some food in you and third..."He had started off with a serious and commanding tone, but his next words were uncharacteristically soft. "... he just thought you'd like the time with Prowl."

They both sat in silence. After a few seconds Jazz chuckled and passed a face through his black hair.

"He's right. Best we get dat spare room cleaned up ehy?" He said with a small smile.

* * *

You like? Huh? Huh!? HUH!?!? XD Sorry if everyone looks kinda out of character but come on! You really expect Jazz to be cheerful in this kind of situation?!?!? Don't worry, he'll be back to normal.

**REVIEW PLEASE!!**


	7. Chapter 7

After a long while... another chapie yey! Sorry for the lateness!

**READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!**

* * *

"I see."

There was tired sigh from the other side of the phone, followed shortly by more helpless words.

"Do not worry, I know you, and everybody else will help him in the future should our fears come to pass."

More words were exchanged. Promises of future actions and get togethers were passed.

"Yes, goodbye."

The phone was gently hanged up, only the click of the receiver was heard in the large room.

It was dark, only a candle being the only source of light. A lone figure sat on a small cushion. Back straight and hands on his lap, fingers laced in a silent prayer. The soft smell of incense hang in the air, adding a certain exotic touch to the room.

After a moment lost in his thoughts, he picked up the phone once again, softly dialing a number he could never forget even if he wanted to. It only took a few rings for the other to pick up, and as always, a snapped 'what' came from the other end.

"He's awake." There was nothing more that had to be said. There was no need to specify who 'he' was. Nothing more mattered then that simple fact to the other at the moment.

After a few moments of shocked silence, where only the others surprised breathing could be heard, the figure heard a harsh click followed by several beeps signaling the end of the conversation, if the few words spoken could even be called a conversation.

Like before, the phone was hanged up and the figure let out a long tired, yet content sigh. Everything would be okay. That person would make sure of it.

* * *

This day couldn't get any worse. Two days had passed since he had been told of the horrors he had gone through for the past two months. And things were not good.

Prowl always prided himself in being a logical person. He always sorted out his emotions depending on the gravity of them. If he was sad or distressed, he just locked them away and wouldn't stop working on the projects from college so as to distract himself from those intense emotions. If he was angry or conflicted, he'd just vent by exercising or sparring with Jazz or some other student at the dojo. Now though, as he laid in the medical bed, staring at the annoyingly white ceiling, he had no clue on what he should do.

He wasn't sad, but he wasn't happy either. Which he should be! He survived torture. His heart had stopped twice! Yet he had survived. He had entered a coma, a coma that according to Ratchet, he could have never come out of. Yet, after only a month, he had woken up. He was alive and safe yet, he did not feel happy or relieved where he should. That confused him a lot.

He wasn't angry. And he should be! He had been hurt! Badly. He should be angry that something like that had happened to him. And worse still, that his kidnappers were unknown and running free.

Now there was an emotion he recognized. Fear. Prowl was scared. No matter how emotionless and stable he looked on the outside, no matter how much he waned to deny it, he was freaking out on the inside. He knew it and he didn't know why.

It could be that, just as he had thought before, his kidnappers, the ones that had tortured him, were _running free_.

That was something that had caught him by surprise. All of a sudden, he was scared of things he had never been scared about in his life! Small and trivial things no one in their right mind would ever fear. He had panicked when night had fallen and the nurse had turned off the light! Thoughts like, 'there's someone there, in the darkness, waiting for me' and 'I'm surrounded' had come to mind immediately leaving Prowl perplexed and scared by the sheer fear and panic that that simple act of turning the lights off and being submitted to darkness had caused him.

Other small things, like loud noises had freaked him out, his heart rate raising considerably. One of the nurses had accidentally dropped a tray with a several metal materials on it just outside his room. He nearly jumped to the ceiling by the noise made. Jazz had instantly been at his side when Prowl couldn't seem to get his breaths to steady.

Then, there had been the touches. Casual, friendly, and completely _normal_. When he had first woken and Jazz had hugged him, he had felt panicked and trapped. After that, he had nearly always flinched when someone would put their hand on his shoulder. Once, Ratchet had been next to his bed and had lifted his hand to change the serum and Prowl had automatically lifted his good arm as if expecting to be stricken.

That action had left Prowl confused and Ratchet disturbed.

Now, Prowl wasn't stupid. He knew that his frightened and defensive reactions were due to all the trauma his body had gone through. He knew that even if _he_ didn't remember all the stuff that had been done to him, his body clearly did and so did his subconscious. He wouldn't be so freaked out about certain stuff if he wasn't.

He just wished that the others wouldn't treat him like an idiot, or worse, as if he were made out of glass and tell him what he already knew would probably happen.

He knew that if his subconscious still remembered his hellish time at the hands of some sick people, he would eventually remember. Prowl admitted to himself that he was scared of remembering. He had taken a shower that morning with Jazz's help. The state his body was in made him sick. It didn't matter that he was half healed. The cuts and burns on his arms, thighs and stomach were still visible. To make things worse, there was, for some reason, a full body mirror. He decided to look how bad his back was, since it itched like hell thanks to all the scabs he felt. He went pale when he saw the whip marks. Jazz had immediately demanded for the mirror to be taken out of the bathroom.

That was another thing. The others were acting like the air itself was a threat to him. At first, he had understood. They had all been on edge and his state was only incrementing they anxiety. But now it was just ridiculous.

According to Ratchet, he would be discharged next week. Something told him that Ratchet would prefer to keep him much longer. But the thought of getting out of the hospital to a more friendly environment was very appealing.

"What'cha thinking 'bout?"

Prowl looked to his right at Jazz who stood leaning against the door frame. His usual smirk plastered on his face, though Prowl could see that it didn't hold the same carefree presence it usually did. The young man had been worried about his friend. He had lost weight and when he had removed his visor, he was shocked at the exhaustion in his eyes and at the dark rings that were like a neon sigh screaming 'I NEED SLEEP!' He had talked to Jazz about it. He had commented on it just yesterday, but Jazz had said that of course he hadn't slept. What kind of person would sleep when their best friend was missing?

"Nothing really." He said instead sitting up. Jazz came to his side to help him, trying not to touch him to much in fear of his reaction. Prowl scowled frustrated. "I can do it myself Jazz."

"Ah know. Still wanna help. Or can't Ah?"

Prowl huffed. "I'm not saying you can't. But you barely let me lift my own water cup this morning. Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit in your attempt to 'make my life easier' as you put it?"

Jazz sighed. "Look, Ah just feel res-"

"You better not be annoying my patient Jazz, or I'm calling security to drag your ass out of here." The detective was caught off as Ratchet entered the room holding a chart, no doubt Prowls.

Jazz glared. "Ah'm not annoying 'im. Just keeping company. Whats dat?" He asked nodding at the chart.

Glaring back, Ratchet walk to the other side of Prowl's bed, doing a quick check of his vitals.

"Some results I got back. You're healing fine. The slight infection you had from your back is gone. Your arm is healing nicely, and we can take some stitches off from the gash above you eyebrow and some of the deeper cuts on your arms and legs. But the rest I would prefer to give one more week…"

Both Ratchet and Jazz went silent as they tried to avoid looking at each other. Prowl looked from one of them to the other. He knew they were mad at each other. Jazz at Ratchet for hiding the origin of some of his most serious wounds and Ratchet at Jazz for overworking himself and for being an idiot.

The medic was not sorry for not telling the others about the wounds. He knew he'd have to tell them once Prowl woke up. But having the knowledge of what happened hanging over their heads while Prowl was still in a coma would have done more harm then good. There was one thing he hadn't told anyone though, and he prayed to Primus that Prowl didn't remember that. If he did. He didn't know if the kid would recover.

Prowl winced hearing the news. He looked a the stitches on his arm and shivered. He hated needles. And those stitches had be put there _by_ needles and where going to be taken off, meaning the cord would be slipped out of his skin and he would feel it. He knew it wouldn't be painful but… the prospect felt so awful and uncomfortable, feeling as something was pulled away from under his skin… He shivered again.

"I'll be able to leave on Wednesday next week right?" He asked instead to get his mind out of the stitches. Going. Off.

Ratchet sighed. "Yes Prowl. You can. But that means you have to rest and let the rest of your wounds heal. And before you ask. I want you to wait another month before you go back to college."

"What! Are you joking! I've missed two months already! I can't miss another one! I was planning on calling Mirage to send me all the work that I've missed! "

Great. Just what he needed. College had been the one thing he had been looking forward to since he had time to think straightly. It would occupy his mind of the troubling thoughts running around in his mind. And he really hated being behind in something.

"I don't object to you catching up on what you missed and having Mirage or another of your classmates bring you back the material to study but, at _home_!" Said Ratchet crossing his arms.

Sighing, Prowl knew he had no other choice. It wasn't that bad now that he thought about it. He'd have more time to catch up on every thing in the month he had to endure with bed rest and would probably manage to be on the same lessons his classmates were in by the time he could go back to college.

"Fine. But I want to call Mirage as soon as he's out of class."

* * *

Jazz, having the next month off, made sure to do everything Prowl wanted or needed. Once they finished talking about college and what he could and could not do-with much frustration on Prowl's part- he had gone to the hospital's cafeteria to call the headmaster of the college Prowl was attending to.

Alpha Trion was a good man. He had been honestly concerned about Prowl when he turned on the T.V for news one night and saw the picture of one of the students attending his college, and whom he had talked with many times, being shown as a victim to a kidnap. He had called Jazz immediately and asked if there was anything he could do to help.

Jazz had been grateful and asked a few protocol questions. But nothing came up at all. Alpha Trion had reassured Jazz that he would handle everything at college while Prowl was away, making sure his teachers knew what had happened so when Prowl came back, he could catch up with no problem. Jazz had not missed the hidden message in his words. 'Prowl _will_ come back'.

Now, after two months he could call back with the good news.

-Hello?-

-'ello? Director Trion? This is Jazz. We spoke some months ago regarding Prowl.-

-Ahh yes, detective Jazz. I heard the good news that Prowl had been found.-

-Yes, he was.-

-I am relieved. I- I also heard he was in a coma?-

Jazz clenched his teeth. Damn reporters. It had taken a lot of self control not to kill the reporter that had somehow made it past security and into Prowl's room for a 'snapshot' of the victim while he was still in a coma. It had also made Jazz scared. If a simple reporter could get in, so could anyone. And thanks to the news channel, Everybody that cared knew where Prowl was and his condition. Which meant that his captors also knew. Security had been reinforced since them.

-Yes, it is true. He woke up two days ago.-

-Oh that is wonderful news!- Was the relived answer.

-Yeah. Well, he was kinda hoping ta go back to college and-

-So soon? From what I understood, he was hurt quite badly. Shouldn't he rest some more?-

Jazz smiled at the concerned Director. He truly was a good man. -Ah won't lie ta ya, he's hurt really bad. The doctors are ready ta discharge him on Wednesday but have given him a full month of bed rest. But he stills want ta work. We discussed it wouldn't do him no harm ta have his work delivered at home. We were planning on calling a friend o' his ta bring the material he had ta study over. But Ah was wondering if ya could have a talk with da teachers ya know? Get them ta help a bit?-

-Oh but of course! Who is this friend you were planning on calling? I can tell him today myself if you wish.-

-That would be great! He's names Mirage.-

-Ah yes Mirage, excellent student. Do not worry I will talk to him oh but, does he know that Prowl is alright? Or would you rather tell him yourself?-

Jazz smiled again. -Yeah, we called him earlier.- He paused as if something deeply bothered him. -Never heard him speak so much.-

Laughter greeted him from the other side. -I'm sure. Well then, I'll have it all organized don't you worry!-

After agreeing that Trion would get the message delivered and the teachers taken care of, he called Mirage to assure him that yes, he could come by and visit that day.

Snapping his cellphone shut with a satisfied sigh he leaned back on the chair he was currently occupying on a table at the far wall of the cafeteria. He looked around the big room his eyes hidden under his visor. The cafeteria was full of families and friends of other patients, all with an aura of worry surrounding them for their loved ones. Even so, it was rather loud and he could barely make out what they were all saying.

For the thousandth time, the detective sighed, his resolve wavering. His chest constricted in that awful way that reminded him he had been one of the friends fretting for a loved one. He knew what all the family members and friends were going through and he sent a silent prayer so that everyone in the hospital would make it out okay. Since Prowl's admittance at the hospital, he had become intimately aware of what emotional pain felt like, and no one deserved that.

"You're doing it again."

To his credit, Jazz didn't even flinch. Instead, he put on his usual smirk and turned in his chair to look up a his lover, dressed in black jeans, with sleeveless shirt and jacket, a bad hanging from his hand.

"Hey 'Cade. Ya know, this stalking persona of yours is starting ta creep meh out." He said teasingly.

Barricade glared at him, going around and sitting in front of the younger detective. They both looked at each other, observing and analyzing.

Jazz was, for no better words, a mess. His usual 'style' was lacking. He was wearing the same shirt for four days, all wrinkled and dirty. His jeans were in the same state, the bottom of the legs dirty with mud and street water. He visor needed a good cleaning as did the man himself. He could easily guess that the ever present bags he had under his eyes for the last two months were worse then usual. He didn't like seeing how his partner's lack of food and sleep were affecting not only his appearance but his abilities. Any other time, Jazz would have sensed Barricade from the moment he came into the cafeteria. Instead, the older man had been able to sneak up on him. Something no one had been able to.

Sighing, Jazz let himself slump in the chair.

"'m fine 'Cade." He whispered.

"Bull. I've seen homeless people better then you." He snapped.

Jazz ran a hand over his face, taking off his visor. His eyes were red from lack of sleep and the rings around his eyes were darker then usual.

"You look like a panda."

That earned the smirking man a glare.

"A'm just-"

"Worried, yeah I know. I'm too Jazz. But you'll be no help at all if you suddenly collapse in the middle of the day because you haven't been able to take care of yourself. And I know Prowl. He'll take your example as an excuse to do all the things he shouldn't in the next couple of days. Mark my words, you're being a bad example."

They grew silent for a moment, Jazz avoiding meeting his lover's gaze as he looked around the room, a man with two little girls had just entered, a fake small on his face as he reassured his daughters that everything would be fine.

"A'm just afraid- this is all a dream." He said finally.

Barricade nodded understanding. "Well it isn't. He's back and safe with us and I know that from now on, all of us are going to make sure nothing like this ever happens to him again."

The detective smiled recalling having heard the same words before. "Ah know 'Cade. Ah just wish there was something more ah could do fer 'im."

Sighing in defeat, the older man got up and grabbed his lover's arm, making his get up from his seat as well.

"There is something you can do for him."

"There is?"

"Yeah and Ratchet agrees, he even lend us his private shower in his office. You are going to take a shower and get into these new clothes." He said gesturing at the bag he was carrying.

Jazz glared openly at his lover, putting his visor back on and following the smirking man out of the cafeteria.

"How is that gonna help 'im?"

Turning with a grin, they stopped in front of the elevators. "Prowl told me he almost suffocated when you hugged him again yesterday."

Pouting, a small trace of the old Jazz seemed to peak through. "Ah don't smell that bad!" His pout deepened when his lover snorted.

"Fine! Ah'll get a shower and change but Ah don't want ta hear any complaints from him when he gets told ta do the same!"

"I'm just glad our spare room has it's own bathroom with a shower." Muttered Barricade. Remembering the time they had both slept on Prowl's couch when they were too tired to get back to their own apartment. Prowl had freaked when he entered his bathroom for a shower and found both of them, ejem… occupied.

"Ah can't believe he made a bigger fit 'bout staying over then he did about not being able ta go ta college."

They reached the medics office and went straight to the small bathroom at the back of the room.

"I can't imagine why, after all, we did traumatize him that first night." Barricade said dryly, turning his lover to help him out of the deserving to burn clothes.

"Hey! How was Ah supposed ta know he could hear us!"

"Well he did. Poor kid couldn't look at us straight in the face for a month."

Jazz was already out of his jacket, shirt, boots and socks. Pouting he went for his belt as the older man turned on the shower.

"Needs ta find someone he does." Jazz muttered. He hoped one day Prowl found someone to care for him. He had even tried to hook him up a couple of times. But Prowl just didn't want a relationship, said he didn't find anything about one that draw his attention.

"Well, we can work on that later. Now." A sly smile appeared on the handsome face of Barricade and Jazz felt a sudden rush. It had been so long. Two months and three days to be exact. "You've been incredibly tense since this mess started. Let's see if we can get you relaxed." He said huskily as hands ran over his bare chest.

Damn how he loved showers.

* * *

Prowl laid on the medical bed looking at the ceiling, lost in thought. There was something bothering him and he didn't know what. There was something he was missing.

_"That would be two months worth of memories."_ He thought dryly.

But to his surprise, that didn't bother him as much as the thought that there was one thing in particular that he should remember. And every time he tried to think about what it could possibly be, he always came up with on thing. Tattoos.

Sighing in frustration, Prowl turned onto his side, putting his good arm under his head while his broken arm laid gently on the mattress. Tattoos, what a stupid thing to remember. Why would tattoos be important?

"Heya Prowler!"

Prowl jumped at the loud interruption and looked up to glare at his smiling friend. His glare turned to a frown as he looked a his friend, trying to find what was different about him. Then it hit him.

"You took a shower."

Chuckling, Jazz entered the room and walked up to Prowl's bed, as the younger man was sitting up. Grabbing the control, the detective pressed the bottom that would elevate the mattress so Prowl could be more comfortable.

"Yeah well, 'Cade said it was 'bout time. Got me new clothes too. And Ah believe it was something ya said that made him drag me into the shower. Not that Ah was complaining after a while."

The smug and satisfied smirk on his face gave Prowl all the information he needed. He groaned.

"Thank you Jazz, I did not want that image in my head. Again."

Jazz smirked, and although Prowl could still see some strain in it, there was more of 'Jazz' in it.

"Ah already apologized about that."

"Where's 'Cade now?"

"Went back ta his post. Something about a lead on another case he was working on before… well before."

A small awkward silence fell. Both not sure what to say at that.

"Anyway, Mirage is coming today, and so is Blaster. They're eager ta see ya!"

Sighing Prowl let his head drop on the pillow Jazz had put behind his head. He was nervous. He wanted to act like he was fine, but in reality, he was still feeling unprepared to see other people. Specially if they didn't know the extent of his injuries. Jazz had made it clear that only Ratchet, Optimus, Bluestreak, Barricade and him were the ones that were to know.

The detective noticed the troubled look in his friends face and carefully sat beside him, facing him.

"Hey," He started softly, using a hand to cup his face and turn to look at him. He acted oblivious to his friend's flinch at the contact. "If you're not up to it, Ah can tell them today's not a good day."

Prowl shook his head. "No. I- I'm ready. I have to leave this behind me. I-" Should he tell him? Jazz would understand and in another time he would never have doubted to tell his best friend anything but, now anything he said seemed to hurt the detective more.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Jazz frowned, feeling like he had just lost something.

"Pr-"

"Brother!"

Both men turned to see Bluestreak come running in and then halt. Shifting from foot to foot, seeming uneasy.

After he had bolted from the room two days ago, it had taken them three hours to find him. Poor Optimus had panicked, images of Prowl's broken and bleeding body replaced with that of the youngest of his charges. Barricade had been the one to find the teen, sitting with his arms circling his legs and face buried in his knees, on the roof of the hospital where patients could go to get fresh air.

He had called Optimus when the youngster refused to move. The man had rushed up and after he hugged the teen making sure he was alright he had gotten angry and yelled at Bluestreak never to go off on his own again.

Jazz had told Prowl that Bluestreak had gone silent and hadn't wanted to come back. Worried about his younger brother, Prowl could do nothing since Optimus had decided to take him home. Now though, it appeared that the teen had finally been able to get the courage to come back.

"Blue'?" Prowl called sliding a bit as if to get out of the bed.

Suddenly, unable to take it any longer, Bluestreak ran the rest of the way and hugged Prowl, minding his injuries.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I know I shouldn't have left you alone and worried Optimus like that, but I was really mad that you wouldn't leave it alone and I only want you to be happy and not hurting but then you just wanted to know about your injuries and I couldn't bear it and I just had to leave because I didn't want to hear it and-"

"Blue', Bluestreak! Calm down, it's okay. Shh it's okay." Prowl said softly wrapping his good arm around his brother and running his hand through his hair in a soothing manner.

Bluestreak started to sob quietly, but was happy to see his brother okay and glad he wasn't mad at him. Jazz had moved a bit back on the bed to let the teen have more space. Again, that feeling of protectiveness over the two younger men hit him hard. He'd make sure nothing happened to any of them. Now that Prowl would be under his care, he knew he had to change from who he was during the last two months. He knew this was Ratchet's doing, but couldn't find it in him to mind the medic's interference.

* * *

It had taken a while for Bluestreak to calm down, but once he did, Prowl distracted him by asking what he had done while he was away. To say he had not been pleased when the younger teen told him he had skipped school a lot was a given. Prowl had scolded his brother who was now looking very sheepish. Jazz had intervened, stating the time Prowl had gone on a temperamental tirade, skipping school and running away from home. Shocked to know his big brother had done such a thing as a youngster Bluestreak had proceeded to ask everything about it which earned Jazz a rather impressive hard smack to the head by Prowl.

And that was how Optimus, guiding a nervous Mirage and Blaster found them a couple of hours later. Prowl vibrating in embarrassment and trying not to kill his friend, while the detective laughed along with Blue' as he retold several embarrassing moments in Prowl's life.

"Well aren't ya a sight fer sore eyes."

"Blaster!" Cried cheerfully and a bit nervous Jazz skipping over to his friend. He was tall and had tanned skin, his hair dyed in a dark red. The detective was feeling guilty, since over the past two months he had never bothered to call on his friends. Blaster has been just a tiny bit upset with him and teased him merciless over the phone when they talked again.

"Come here ya!" Grabbing the detective in a headlock, Blaster proceeded to rubbing his head hard. "Ya little idiot not calling ta see if ya were alive! And I've been hearing from the department guys that you've been neglecting yourself! Idiot!"

"Ow, ow owieee! Ah'm sorry! Mercy please!"

Prowl rolled his eyes at the sight, murmuring something about how he deserved it before his eyes turned to a fidgeting Mirage. He was a bit shorter then Blaster, white short hair and fair skin. Many teased him that he looked like a girl.

"Hello 'Raj." He said gently. Both students were good friends, their love for books and history bringing them together.

Ignoring the pleading Jazz and currently angry Blaster, he made his way to Prowl, nodding a hello to Bluestreak who went to help Jazz in order to give the two friends some sort of privacy.

"Hello Prowl. It's really good to see you again." He tried to sound clam, but he couldn't help his eyes as they wandered across Prowl's visible skin, taking in every cut and some bruises that were still healing, saying a lot about the damage he had received.

Prowl sighed. "Not a pretty sight right?"

Mirage ducked his head in apology for the staring. "I'm- sorry Prowl. I knew it would be bad. When you were found, we tried to come see you but Jazz wouldn't let us."

Hearing a bit of anger in his voice, Prowl unconsciously shifted a bit to distance himself from Mirage.

"Wh- what happened?" He asked trying to mask the sudden nervousness he felt.

"He just wouldn't let us come in, said we didn't 'want' to see you and well…" He took a small sigh. "I blame it on the stress of the first month. Blaster and Jazz had a big argument. So loud that a nurse had called security to get them out of the hospital. Blows were exchanged and they didn't talk since."

Prowl looked at the white haired man with shock. He understood why Jazz had wanted to save their friends any trauma with seeing his broken body, but he would have thought he would handle it nicely.

"Anyway, I get why he did it, but then he just disappears. I mean, I know where he was and all, but he never called us, never even hinted about your condition. Frustrated, Blaster called Ratchet. That was when we heard you were in a coma."

Mirage trailed off, lowering his head.

"You had us really worried. Hell, half our classes were grim, knowing you were out there, caught and going through Primus knows what. I can tell you right now that everyone is eager to see you back in class, even if they know you'll just keep ignoring them."

Prowl was taken aback by the sudden confession. He wasn't the most popular of people, preferring to keeping to himself. Mirage was his only friend in college and he felt as if to the rest of the students he was just a presence in the room. They rarely talked to him, except when they had a question about something as trivial as the time or when they had team work, which was not often. To hear that he had been missed that much made him feel… odd. But a good odd.

"I… see." He couldn't help the small smile appearing on his face.

"Well, I've brought your books and notebooks from your apartment. After we got you back, Jazz made sure your door locks were changed in case... well just in case. I asked him for the key and went to retrieve some of your things. There's also a copy of my notes for you to use." He said quickly setting down the bag he was carrying.

"Thanks Mirage, I hope it wasn't of any inconvenience?"

"None at all. I hope to see you in class as soon as possible." He said seriously.

"I'd be there sooner if Ratchet hadn't sicked Jazz on until I die." Prowl said dryly, sighing in defeat.

Smirking at his friend, Mirage started to say something teasingly when he was suddenly pushed aside by Blaster, who all but threw himself at Prowl.

"Prooooooooowl! We did you have to go missing? Ya gave us a great scare ya! And Jazz has been a total ass!" He cried dramatically sprawling himself on Prowl.

Jazz tensed as he saw the sudden contact between Blaster and Prowl. If the younger man's reactions were anything to go by, he would freak. And freak Prowl did. For a moment he felt the need to scream for help. But he managed to reign in that desire. He sat rigid, not allowing himself to move even a muscle. He closed his yes tight. desperately trying to take in calming breath to gain some control over his body.

_"Come here you!"_

_Strong and rough arms tackled him as he tried to run again. He fell to the floor hard._

_"S- stop let me go please!" So much fear was in that voice._

_"Never letting you go." Hissed the featureless man into his ear. His warm breath stinking of alcohol and nicotine bled onto his neck.  
_

His control was slipping as those scene played in his mind as if he was reliving the moment. It was by sheer will that he did not lash out. His breathing became more erratic. He knew what was happening.

Noting the sudden panicked increase in the others breathing, the red hair stood up to see what was wrong. He panicked when he saw Prowl trying to clam himself, as if something bad had just happened.

"Oi, Prowl? Are you-"

"Ya idiot!"

The red hair was pushed back as Jazz took his place Optimus close behind, making sure not to touch the younger man. Bluestreak came around the bed to the other side, watching his brother anxiously, but staying still and silent.

"It's alright Prowl. Deep breaths, come on like that. There ya go." The detective had inhaling and exhaling motions with his hands as if that would help the raven head.

"Everything is okay Prowl. Nothing and no one is going to hurt you." Optimus added hoping he was saying the right thing.

Prowl felt himself relaxing at Jazz's and Optimus's words and the lack of contact, bringing him back to the real world. With one last deep breath, he felt ready to open his yes and face the world again.

What greeted him made him cringe. Mirage and Blaster were a nervous mess, not saying anything in case of breaking the sudden spell that seemed to fall on the room, but their expressions and twitches of hands was all he needed to know that they were freaking out. Jazz was a lot calmer then he had been the first time this happened and was already handing him a glass of water.

Nodding his thanks, Prowl didn't wait before gulping it down.

"Wh- what happened?" Mirage braved in a quiet voice, suddenly afraid that their actions could cause Prowl to have another one of… whatever had just happened.

Prowl knew Jazz was about to give them an excuse to get them off his back. But the student knew that if he did in fact, remember in the fitter, his actions would be much, much worse. It be best if they knew now.

"I'm not as 'fine' as you think I am." He said somberly. Jazz turned to look at him in shock along side Optimus, Bluestreak looked like he wanted to cry and the others just looked at him confusingly.

Even if Prowl had decided to let that little truth out, he didn't really feel well with speaking of all that haunted him. Specially with Jazz and Bluestreak in the room.

"Well…" Blaster said uneasily, trying to lighten the grim atmosphere. "we'll leave ya alone for a bit until ya feel better. We'll be back later right Raj'?"

Mirage nodded, not really wanting to leave. But what had happened left him confused and he had no idea how to deal with something he had no idea of what it was.

"I- it was good seeing you Prowl." He said quietly.

Prowl nodded and looked at both of them apologetically.

"Yeah, don't become a stranger ehy Prowl?" Blaster said.

"Heh, don't worry Blaster, Ah'll make sure he appears in a few parties without the Hatchet knowing. You'd like that right Prowlie?" Jazz said teasingly trying to get Prowl off whatever thoughts were grossing his mind at the moment.

But it was the wrong thing to say.

_"Hello again Prowlie. Time for round two."_

_The twisted smile seemed to shine in the darkness._

_...  
_

_"Where are you going Prowlie dear? We're not done with you!" Sneered another featureless shadow, an arm swinging back._

This time, Prowl did scream.

* * *

Prowl's screaming fit had scared all the occupants in the room. They watched wide eyed as the young man screamed in fear, his eyes unfocused as if he was not with them but somewhere far away and unpleasant. The panicked screaming had turned to whimpers of pain. Ratchet had barged in, kicking everyone except Optimus and Jazz out. Two nurses had to come to help them restrain Prowl as he started thrashing when Ratchet had tried to give him a sedative.

_"Come on Prowlie, this will make you feel good, you know it will."_

_A needle was place in front of him, mocking him. Then, one of the figures slammed him down on the floor and impaled his neck with the needle. Just like all the times before._

"No! No more please! No more!" He had screamed in blind fear. The small relief they had experienced when they realized Prowl wouldn't remember anytime soon was crushed.

Optimus felt his heart clench at the sight of his charge in so much emotional pain and fear, as well as anger at the ones who did this to him. Ratchet was fuming. He understood. Prowl must be remembering when they had drugged him. Jazz managed to grab onto Prowl's arms and was hugging him close, not letting go even if he was crushing his broken one in the process. He was filled with rage. These people, would pay.

"What just happened!" Demanded Jazz once Prowl had been sedated and now rested limply on the bed, a few quiet whimpers leaving him once in a while.

"I should be the one to ask that question!" Snapped Ratchet. "What started this?"

Sighing, Optimus told him about how Blaster had tuckled-hugged him and Prowl had gone tense. It had seemed that he had managed to control himself but then…

"Ah called 'im Prowlie. That's when he just lost it." Jazz said grimly. "Fuckers. Sick fuckers. Bet they called him that whenever they did… whatever they did."

Ratchet rubbed a hand through his brown locks. "I think you're right. Must be why he reacted so intensely to it. It's probably linked to almost everything that happened to him."

"Will- will he remember when he wakes up?" Optimus asked, running a hand over his charge's head as soothingly as possible.

"I don't know Optimus, we'll have to wait until he wakes up. "

* * *

Prowl woke slowly, the effects of the sedative immediately recognized. He was getting damn tired of waking up from an induced sleep. He turned his head to the left, staring out the window. It was sometime in the afternoon, probably five.

What had he been doing before, no doubt Ratchet, had sedated him? He took a deep breath and back tracked. He had been woken extremely early by a nurse that had come to take a sample of his blood like every other day. Breakfast had been served after and had been as always, incredibly large. He had eaten it begrudgingly, not really hungry but knowing that not only Ratchet, but Jazz and Optimus would force feed him if he didn't do it himself. Bastards.

Jazz had arrived like every other day at eight and had helped him shower. He was still weak after a month of hunger and thirst and drugs and another month of being fed only serum through his veins. His muscles needed a bit of exercise and his body more food, hence the large breakfast. He winced as he remembered the moment he took off his clothes. Even if a month had passed, the large bruise on his leg remained. It started right above his ankle and ended mid-thigh and was darker on his front and back, almost as if it had been crushed. While it wasn't broken, he needed Jazz's help to keep upright.

The full-body mirror hadn't helped at all nor had his curiosity to see his back. Of course it would have been bad. Though he personally thought Jazz had over-reacted. The poor nurses had had to rush to get the mirror out.

He wasn't embarrassed to have Jazz help him shower. When they were kids they would go down to the lake just outside the city and swim naked, and after take a bath together as Prowl's still living mother yelled at them for going there in the first place again.

Jazz had left then to call Alpha Trion and Mirage and- Oh. He remembered. Just a bit after lunch, Jazz had come in and soon his little brother had joined them. Then Mirage and Blaster had arrived to see him. Blaster had tackled him. And he remembered… he remembered?

Prowl shook his head. He remembered that he remembers something but couldn't place what that something was. He sighed deicing that it was probably better that way.

"Prowl!"

When the young adult turned to see Ratchet entered followed by a worried Optimus and blank faced Jazz, he knew it was definitely better, specially if they looked at him like was going to start screaming at any moment. Wait.

He groaned, vaguely remembering having screamed. No wonder his throat hurt and was dry.

"Before you ask." He started swallowing. "I remember that I had a fit but I don't remember why."

The three men stopped surprised to hear this so soon. But they were relieved nonetheless. Jazz for one part, had hoped Prowl never remembered while a part of him wished he remembered some details, names, faces, places. Just so he could go and bring the bastards in.

"Well, " Ratchet started, checking his vitals and running his flashlight/pen over his eyes making Prowl squint at the suddenness. "I can't say we're upset about that and we won't ask you anything more. We pretty much figured out what and why you reacted as you did. If you remember though,"

"I'll tell you. Yes I know."

"We've been discussing what we should do if you don't remember." Optimus said. "Ratchet suggested we could tell you, see if you remember but we were afraid you may react as you did last."

Prowl shifted. He remembered the fear and didn't really wish to feel such fear again.

"I- I'm not sure…"

"Don't worry, we won't push ya." Jazz said smiling a bit. "Ya up for receiving visitors though?"

"Visitors?" Then he remembered who had been in the room with him. "Oh no, how's Bluestreak?"

"Shaken. He got really scared when you started… when you had an episode." Ratchet said diplomatically.

"Yes, I would like to see him. Are Mirage and Blaster still here?" He asked a bit cautious. Bluestreak was a must, but he wasn't sure he could deal with his friends right now.

"Nah, they just left. Raj's got a night class and Blaster was off ta his part time job."

No one missed the relieved sigh that came from the young man. Running his good hand over thought his black hair he winced when he passed his neck as he went to massage it. Suddenly having an image of being stabbed by a needle he glared at Ratchet.

"As much as I know that it was needed, would it kill you to be gentle the next time you have to sedate me?"

"Gentle? Gentle he says! What next you're going to ask for a treat?" Grumbled the medic glaring right back, but his eyes narrowed. Even in their panic to calm Prowl down, he had been as gentle as he could to administer the sedative. He shouldn't feel any pain in his neck.

_"Echos." _He thought. His brain was receiving pain signals from his body. Ratchet chewed on his lip. Prowl associated the pain to him sedating him but that was not possible.

Chuckling at his friend, Jazz turned to leave the room in search of the anxious teen.

"Prowl, are you sure you're alright?" Optimus asked as the door closed.

Looking into his blue eyes, Prowl realized that he had probably wanted to speak with him alone for a while. But Jazz was always hovering and then he had to take care of Bluestreak, get him to school and go to the firehouse for his shifts.

Ratchet busied himself with his chart, sending Optimus a knowing look as he went to sit on the one-man couch at the far corner of the room next to the door.

"I'm fine Optimus."

"Really?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "Because I can clearly remember that you told the others that you were not as fine as they we thought."

Prowl sighed. "I know, it's just. I'm not sure you're the right person with whom I should talk to about the things that haunt me." He said apologetically, looking at Optimus with saddened eyes, knowing he had probably hurt his guardian with his words.

Sighing, Optimus slowly bent forwards to hug his charge. It had hurt, knowing that Prowl did not want to speak with him. But he understood.

"It's okay Prowl, I won't push you, just know that I'm always here if you ever need to talk." He let go when Prowl tensed a bit. "I believe though, that there is someone you might feel more comfortable speaking to. He came here today while you were still asleep but he stayed waiting for you to wake up."

"Who?" Prowl asked confused.

Just then, the door opened and as he expected, Bluestreak came rushing in. Forgetting himself, the teen jumped on the bed and hugged his brother much like he had done when he had first woken up from his coma.

Curious. Prowl thought. He did not flinch nor tense as his brother buried his face in his stomach.

"I'm okay Bue'" He said softly.

"I know, and I'm glad, just what to hug you." Were the muffled words that reached him.

Smiling, Prowl turned to see Optimus smiling fondly at both of them.

"Well, this is truly a lovely sight. I thought I might have to come another day."

Turning his gaze to the door he froze as he saw the person standing next to Jazz. He was tall, white short hair. His face showed that he had been very handsome in his young age, but he kept himself incredibly well, not truly showing his old age. He stood straight, his skinny arms to his back, bony fingers lacing together. He was wearing a white and golden yukata. His soft blue eyes showed wisdom and warmth, his smile showing his fondness and hidden concern for the young man laying on the bed.

"Master Yoketron!"

"Oh don't say it like that Prowl, one might think you're not happy to see me."

It wasn't always that Yoketron made a joke, his sense of humor usually hidden in his words. But when he did outright say one, it always took him by surprise.

"N- no no no I meant no offense Master I-"

Chucking at his student's stuttering, he came closer standing next to Optimus and nodding his head in greeting, one the Optimus returned, grateful to Yoketron knowing that he would probably be who Prowl turned to with his problems.

"Calm yourself Prowl." There was a small silence as he looked over his student, like Mirage had, he couldn't help but see all the injuries on the boy's skin, the most eye catching being his arm in a sling, the gash above his eye and a sickly yellow bruise on his cheek. Of course, he didn't miss every cut, burn and bruise on his arms and a bit too close to vital points in his neck.

"I am so glad to see you are well."

Ducking his head in embarrassment Prowl searched for something to say. He never knew what to say to this man, even if there were a million things he wished to say. He looked at Optimus, understanding in his eyes.

_"So this is who he meant."_

Optimus caught the look and decided that now was as good as any time for Prowl to talk to someone.

"Come Blue', lets leave them alone for a while." He said gently as he grabbed the teen by the shoulders in a sign to let go.

"Bu- but I just got here." He said, putting his puppy eyes to use.

"Come on Blue' Ah'll treat ya ta some ice-cream and then ya can come back 'fore ya have ta leave fer the night." Jazz said smiling at guilty looking Optimus. The man could never resist those eyes.

Tented, the boy turned to his brother. "I'll be back 'kay! I want to tell you lots of stuff and maybe even play a game! But it might be too late. But that's okay cause we can play tomorrow right?"

"Yes, Blue', I'd like that very much." Prowl said smiling and kissing his brother's forehead.

Ratchet stood up last nodding at Prowl. "Make sure he stays put." With that he was out the door followed buy the rest of their small group. He had some things to talk about with Optimus and Jazz.

Yoketron sat on the edge of Prowl's bed, not missing the small flinch his student had tried to suppress. Jazz had told him everything that had happened. And had confessed that he thought he was the best to talk with Prowl. The detective was too emotionally involved, not that Yoketron wasn't, but he was calmer and wiser and wouldn't blow up in the middle of anything Prowl decided to tell him.

"So." He started.

"So?"

"How are you? Really?"

Prowl sighed. "I'm, not well Master."

"What troubles you?"

"I- I can't. I can't talk about it right now. Even I am not sure as to what haunts me. I want to talk, but I just… need time."

Yoketron nodded in understanding.

"I will wait patiently for you as I'm sure Optimus will."

Prowl's head shot up looking at the old man in shock.

"He has talked with me before he came in. He told me about the possibility that you might not want to speak with him but Prowl, I think that you should confide some of your fears to him."

"I know it's just." He sighed frustrated. "There's a part of me that just doesn't want to talk with anyone and another that wants someone to understand what I'm going through. A small part of me wants someone to talk with. But, it can't be Bluestreak, out of the question. Jazz would be the most logical choice, but he's so angry at what's been done to me, anything I say just fuels him and I don't want to agitate him any further. And I just can't see Optimus as being able to help me."

A small silence reigned in the room.

"I don't know what to do Master. There are many things I feel that confuse me. I understand what happened to me and I'm not ignorant to the fact that I will remember the tortures I went through but, I hate being treated like I'll break, like a child!" His fist hit the bed as hard as he could, trying to expel his frustration, but the soft mattress didn't offer such release.

"I understand Prowl. And I for one won't treat you as if you were a child. You're an adult and aware of what you face. But you must understand that the others are merely afraid. They could do nothing to stop you from being taken, they could do nothing to find you, and they almost couldn't save you."

Yoketron spoke the words Jazz had said when he came to the dojo a week after Prowl was admitted into the hospital. He had confided with his Master exactly what he had told Prowl. He knew Prowl wouldn't break, but there was just nothing else he could do!

"They must bare with the knowledge that they couldn't keep you from harm and that the ones that caused you harm are still out there, this terrifies them."

Prowl sighed. "… I know. I know."

So what could he do but let them keep fretting over him?

* * *

"He's frightened and confused."

Silence was his only answer.

"He will be haunted by the memories, the pain and the fear he felt."

A low grinding noise could be heard, one he could recognize as teeth grinding together. There was also the noise of knuckles cracking, letting him recognize clenched fists.

"What will you do now?"

Again only silence greeted him, and the presence that lurked in the shadows of a dark hallway vanished.

* * *

Prowl dreamed that night. It was the first dream he had had since he woke up.

He dreamed of a broken body, laying on a medical bed, how his chest would rise and fall slowly, heart beat steady.

He dreamed of a dark room, lighten only by the little light that passed thought the thick curtains and by the dim lights of the monitors the body was attached to.

He dreamed of a man, tall and intimidating standing next to the broken body. He dreamed that the man, with a softness one would never expect he possessed, would cup with face and gently run his thumb over his still healing cheek.

He dreamed that the man would bend over the small form on the bed, his face millimeters from his own.

He dreamed of words, whispered by the mysterious figure into his ear. Two words that were both simple, yet holding a fierce promise.

"You're safe."

- . -.-.-.-

Prowl woke with a start. He was panting though he didn't know why. He sat up and looked around the room, but he couldn't see a thing. He didn't know why the dark all of a sudden was a source of fear. He had always been happy with the dark. Jazz had teased him to be a vampire as his apartment was always dark and he'd study under a weak light for hours. Yet, now he felt vulnerable and lost in the vastness of the darkness. He started to breath harder as fear overtook him. He started to panic when he noticed he had no idea why he was so scared. The recently steady beeping of the monitors started to increase, showing the his heart rate increasing rapidly, the sound only serving to feed his panic.

He was about to bolt from his bed, into the hospital's corridor where there was light, but suddenly, out of nowhere, he started to feel… warmth, followed closely by a sense of tranquility. To his surprise yet not unwelcome, a feeling of safety enveloped him like a warm mantel, and sighing softly, his heart slowing to a normal beat, he laid back down and was asleep within seconds.

In the blackness of the room, where the only sounds were the soft and constant beep of the monitors and Prowl's peaceful breathing, only the four walls were witness to the figure that suddenly seemed to materialize in the room, as it stood from the lazy-boy in the darkest corner of the room, right next to Prowl's bed. With one last look at the sleeping boy, he turned and left just as silently as he had come.

* * *

FINISHED FINALLY!

Okay I know you're going mentla and screming WHERE IS THE LOCKDOWNXPROWL YOU PROMISED US?

Dun worry it will come just e patient. 'Kay? I'll give you cookies =)

**REVIEW PLEASE! **


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